


TITANIC

by Santa_Evita



Series: Superbat AUs [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Superman - All Media Types, Titanic (1997)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Clark saves him in every way that a person can be saved, I don't know what I'm doing, I just wanted to see my two favorite idiots living an epic love story, M/M, Multi, Nudity, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other characters will be added along the way - Freeform, Suicidal Thoughts, Yes Clark is Jack and Bruce is Rose, suicidal Bruce Wayne
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:49:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24191620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Santa_Evita/pseuds/Santa_Evita
Summary: Bruce Wayne is the heir to a millionaire fortune. Clark Kent is a poor young man who dreams of being a novelist. They fall in love on board the RMS Titanic, which is making its maiden voyage to Metropolis. But in addition to the forces that try to separate them, the two will face their biggest challenge: survive the sinking of the ship that had hit an iceberg in the middle of the freezing waters of the Atlantic Ocean.OrHow watching Titanic for the millionth time made me write a Superbat au.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Martha Wayne, Clark Kent & James "Jimmy" Olsen, Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Talia al Ghul & Slade Wilson, Talia al Ghul/Bruce Wayne
Series: Superbat AUs [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1745995
Comments: 11
Kudos: 22





	1. Leaving Port

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Titanic 1997 Movie Script](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/620128) by James Cameron. 



> Hello everyone! I hope you all are safe and doing fine during this quarantine. 
> 
> It's my first attempt to write a superbat au and post a fanfic here at ao3 at the same time (no pressure huh).  
> This story is inspired by my obsession with Superbat, Titanic history and of course by James Cameron's Titanic which is one of my all time favorite movies. So I've adapted many (if not all) of the scenes we all love and remember from the movie and some of the deleted scenes of Jack and Rose that did not make the final cut.  
> I'd like to apologize in advance for not knowing how the formatting here works yet; for not being so good with nautical terms despite my obsession with Titanic and for any mistakes in the text since english is not my first language.
> 
> I sincerely wish you all to have a good time while reading this fic just as I have while writing it.
> 
> And I look foward to know what you think in the comments.
> 
> \- Evita

**SOUTHHAMPTON, ENGLAND**

**APRIL 10, 1912**

The Southhampton pier is crowded. People embrace in tearful farewells, wave and shout bon voyage wishes to friends and relatives on the decks above. All of them, beyond excited to see the newest transatlantic ship built by the White Star Line sail towards Metropolis. The brilliant tricolor superstructure of the Titanic was standing monumentally on the dock with its large chimneys proudly pointing to the sky while below, workers moved in all directions on the deck, dwarfed by the grandeur of the steamer.

It was undoubtedly a historical moment. Nothing had ever been built on such scale and proportion nor was there a ship that could match the luxurious accommodations that were designed for Titanic. From the third to the first class passengers there was not a single person who wasn’t impressed by its beauty and opulence. Everyone who had a ticket wished for nothing more but to be the first get on board and see it for themselves.

Well...

Everyone except for the young man who was just getting out of his car helped by a personal valet before his mother and fiancée did the same.

“I don't see what all the fuss is about.” Bruce Wayne looked at the ship with a certain disdain, as he perceived the state of commotion in which all the people around him seemed to be. “It doesn't look any bigger than the Mauretania.”

“You can be blasé about many things, son, but not about Titanic.” His mother, Martha, took his hand to get out of the car, staring at the steamer in awe. “It's over a hundred feet longer than Mauretania, and far more luxurious.”

“Your son is much too hard to to impress, Martha.” Talia appeared by Bruce's side, taking his other arm, trying to hide her displeasure for being left behind to be helped by their valet.

"My dear, you have no idea..." Martha shared a knowing smile with her son.

“So this is the ship they say is unsinkable.” Talia didn't seem to be impressed either, but Bruce knew better than that. The young lady was always determined to show everyone that if there was something to be impressed about, that thing would always be her. And will always be her. Whenever she had a chance.

“I believe that’s exactly what everyone at the White Star Line mean by saying that ‘not even God could sink this ship’... or something like that.” Bruce grumbled, remembering J. Bruce Ismay’s arrogance while he bragged about his newest ship at one of the countless business dinners Bruce had been forced to attend during his staying in London.

The three prominent figures of American high society walked towards the first class boarding area, accompanied by two maids who would be serving Martha and Talia, and by Slade Wilson, a valet specially hired to accompany them during the trip.

Before getting too far away from the two cars that brought them to the dock alongside their servants and their luggage, they were approached by a White Star Line porter whose job was to guide them about last-minute passenger luggage.

Part of Bruce wanted to thank him for the inconvenience and already felt more than willing to comply with the guidelines of the porter. In fact, Bruce was more than willing to take their luggage through the main terminal himself if it meant more time away from that ship. However, they were interrupted by Talia, who ordered Wilson to take care of the matter and give the porter an exaggerated tip so he would take care of all their belongings for them.

Bruce just took a deep breath, struggling to suppress the urge to roll his eyes before another empty display of power that Talia performed with such desperation to impress him and resigned himself to just move forward up the ramp to come aboard.

Talia Al Ghul was not like the other women Bruce had known in his brief eighteen years. She was strong and determined and had all it takes to thrive in a world dominated by men. As the only daughter of Ra's Al Ghul, a millionaire from the steel industry and therefore, his only heir, Talia was raised to be the next in the succession line. Even though this wasn't usual for a young woman of that time, Talia carried her responsabilities with pride to the point of being feared by some board members of her father's company for the day when she would inherit everything, due to her relentless nature. Nature that was the proof that there was no better person to keep the Al Ghul legacy standing than she was.

Even so, the plans for the Al Ghul lineage did not stop Talia from having feelings for Bruce, whom she had been friends with since childhood. Actually, the nature of their relationship was more than favorable for the two to be promised to each other in marriage by their parents. A successful business partnership in many ways that would bear fruit for both families, for generations to come.

Bruce, on the other hand, had carried the same burden as Talia but without the same eagerness as hers when it came to take his place in the Waynes lineage. If there was anything Bruce would like to be able to avoid, it was precisely the day when he would finally sit in his father's chair and do everything the same way he did. Unfortunately, fate didn't care about wanted he wanted and there he was. Still walking up the first-class boarding ramp of what was considered to be the ship of dreams, trying to convince himself that this was the right thing to do. Although every part of his being was telling him otherwise.

And indeed it was, the ship of dreams, for everyone else. Even for his mother and Talia, who did everything she could to not look impressed. However, to Bruce it was a slave ship, taking him back to America in chains.

Outwardly Bruce was everything a well brought up young man of his class should be.

Inside, he was screaming.


	2. Clark Kent's Luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark Kent and Jimmy Olsen win tickets to Titanic's maiden voyage in a very lucky hand at poker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first and second chapters were supposed to be a single chapter but I decided to split it in two because I thought the chapter ended up being too long and it would be better to show their povs separately before they finally meet in the next chapter.
> 
> Please pretend you all didn't' notice that I know nothing about poker either and needed help from the actual script.

Several blocks away from the first class boarding area, in a small pub, a very serious game was in progress. Four men were playing, not knowing that the winner would see their life being changed for good.

Two of them were Clark Kent and Jimmy Olsen. Clark was American, a Ianky as they used to be called at the time. He have been traveling for the past years, working from place to place, adopting the bohemian life style of so many other artists in Europe (specially in Paris) in order to persue his dreams of becoming a novelist. His friend, Jimmy, on the other hand came all the way from Ireland and had far greater expectations about the immense ship standing outside at the dock.

Clark wanted to go home. Jimmy wanted to get a better life and thought that The Land of The Free was a good place to start. They both were playing poker to win two third-class tickets to board the Titanic on it's way to America. But all of that could only be possible if Clark and Jimmy had winning hands.

"Clark, are you crazy? You’re betting everything we have."

"When you got nothing, you got nothing to lose.”

Clark watched the two other men arguing in swedish. He didn't know the language well enough to understand what they were saying but he knew well enough to notice that they were nervous.

"Hit me again, Sven." Clark’s blue eyes betrayed nothing behind the glasses as he took the card and slipped it into his hand, trying to ignore Jimmy's poor attempt to keep a blank face. Outside, the Titanic's whistle blows her final warning, telling Clark and Jimmy to hurry.

"This is the moment of truth boys." Clark said solemnly, analyzing his opponents. "Somebody's life is about to change."

Jimmy puts his cards down with a sigh as he sees the swedes doing the same. He wasn't quite sure about what was going on. He was only following Clark's lead and praying for it to end well for both of them.

Clark on the other hand didn't even flinch.

"Let's see..." Clark whispered most to himself than the others. "Jimmy's got nothing. Olaf, you've got squat. Sven... uh oh..." he stopped, eyeing the bigger man glaring at him. "Two pair... hm."

Clark turned to face Jimmy who was in clear despair, dying to see what cards he has.

"I'm sorry Jimmy...”

"Sorry?! That's all you have to say?! You just lose my money and-"  
  


Jimmy stopped talking as soon as he noticed his friend's expression changing.  
  


"Sorry you're not gonna see your mom for a long time..." Clark said as he slapped his cards on the table, grinning from ear to ear. "‘CAUSE WE'RE GOING TO AMERICA! FULL HOUSE BOYS!"

"Oh my God, Clark!" Jimmy gets up from his chair, hugging his friend and everyone close to them. "We are going to America! WE ARE GOING TO AMERICA!”

"Sorry boys.” Clark shrugged but not really feeling sorry for the other two swedes. "Three of a kind and a pair. I'm high and you're dry and..."

"WE ARE GOING TO AMERICA!" Jimmy shouted as he downed a cup of ale and started to dance behind Clark. The other men in the pub started to laugh at him.

Olaf also got up from the table, balling his hand in a fist as he grabbed the collar of Clark's shirt, ready to punch the younger man in the face. Yet he seemed to change his mind halfway through it and chose to punch Sven instead who flopped backwards onto the floor.

Clark gave a startled laugh and took advantage of the fact that Olaf seemed to have forgotten about him and Jimmy and jumped on the table to collect the winnings from the poker game, the money they bet and the Titanic third-class tickets.

"I’m going home, Jimmy! To the land o’the free and the home of the real hot-dogs!" He chanted, kissing the tickets and going for another hug from Jimmy.

"I'm going to America!" Jimmy shouted again with open arms as he danced around Clark. "To be a millionaire!"

"No, mate.” The Pubkeeper pointed at the clock. "Titanic is going to America. In five minutes!"

"Oh shucks! Come on Jimmy!"

Clark and Jimmy, carrying everything they owned in the world in two kit bags on their shoulders, ran out the doors of the pub toward the pier. They tore through milling crowds next to the terminal. Shouts went up behind them as they jostled slow-moving gentlemen. Dodging piles of luggage, and weaving through groups of people.

As they burst out onto the pier, Clark comes to a dead stop... staring at the cast wall of the ship's hull towering seven stories above the wharf and over an eighth of a mile long.

"Wow!" Clark gasped as he takes in in the figure of the steamer, adjusting his glasses not to miss any detail of the monumental structure. "This ship is monstrous."

“Clark what are you looking at? Let's go!" Jimmy runs back and grabs Clark, and they sprint toward the third class gangway aft, at E deck.

They reach the bottom of the ramp just as an officer of White Star Line is about to detache it at the top.

"Wait!" Clark shouted as he and Jimmy got to half through the ramp, flushed and panting. "Wait! We're passengers!"

"Have you been through the inspection queue?" The officer asks them suspiciously.

"Of course!" Clark lies to him without batting an eye. "Anyway, we don't have lice, we're American." He said when noticed the officer glancing at Jimmy who just nodded. "Both of us."

"Right, come aboard." The officer didn't look convinced at all but still gestured to them to come through the ramp and let the young men finally come aboard so their tickets would be checked by another officer.

“We are the luckiest bastards that ever lived!” Clark exclaimed excited as he and Jimmy ran through the white hallways of the third-class area.

"I can’t believe you’re cursing, Smallville." Jimmy chuckled at how euphoric his friend was as they finally got to their cabin.

“I’m so excited I forgot I had manners!” Clark laughed along with him. “Hey! Who said you have the top bed, huh?”

Right after an argument about who would take the top bed on their side of the cabin (that shamefully Clark lost), they burst through a door onto the aft well deck, running across the deck and up the steel stairs to the fantail. They got to the railing fool of people waving and yelling their goodbyes to the crowd on the dock as the Titanic prepared to finally leave port and Clark started to yell and wave as well.

"You know somebody?" Jimmy stared at him, once again clearly confused by his friend’s antics.

"Of course not! That's not the point." Clark admitted, again waving to the crowd. "Goodbye! Goodbye!! I'll miss you!"

Grinning, Jimmy couldn't help but join in, adding his voice to the swell of voices, feeling the exhilaration of being part of such an important moment.

"Goodbye! I'll never forget you!"

The two friends waved their goodbyes at the crowd of strangers that enthusiastically wished bon voyage, waving white handkerchiefs as the ship gathered speed, towed by tugboats as it moved down the River Test, towards the English Channel.

Clark watched the harbor more and more distantly, feeling more than optimistic about what lay ahead. Very soon, the Titanic would launch into the sea on its journey to Metropolis.

And soon Clark would be home.


	3. Trapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce's act of desperation results in an unexpected encounter with Clark, the third-class boy who convinces him that his life was worth more than he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING:  
> 1\. This chapter is based on the scene of the movie where Rose tries to kill herself by jumping off the ship but end up meeting Jack who convinces her not to.  
> 2\. There's also a nudity scene in the end of the chapter (but it's nothing explicit)
> 
> I didn’t know how to rate this chapter for this reason but I I thought giving you this warning was the right thing to do. If you are sensitive to this kind of content (regarding suicidal thoughts and suicide attempts), please don’t read this chapter. If you still want to read this chapter, I suggest you to follow the numbering that I used (which are I, II and III) to highlight the parts that could be considered as being of sensitive content. So if you still want to read it and avoid that scene in particular (and the nudity scene as well), you can skip directly to the part signaled as number 2 (II).

**I**

Bruce politely excused himself from the table, said good night to his mother and to Talia and left the first-class dining room, following the gentlemen who were ready to spend the rest of their evening in the smoking room to take a dose of brandy and to talk. He kept walking without looking back, without looking around himself, passing by the smoking room where he refused to enter and get himself in another round of tedious conversations about how those men could be wealthier than they already were. He let his own thoughts carry him through the grand staircase and the pristine corridors until he arrived at the door of the parlour suite B52/54/56. One of the two deluxe parlour suites on B-Deck and where Bruce, Martha and Talia were staying.

He didn’t even know how he got there. All Bruce knew was that he needed to leave that dining room and those people, and his body just acted accordingly. Although, It wasn’t the first time. Everything in his life had become so mechanical that Bruce already felt like part of the engine room that moved the Titanic across the ocean.

Regardless of how young he was, Bruce saw his whole life as if he'd already lived it. An endless parade of dinners and business meetings, of parties and cotillions, yachts and polo matches... Always the same narrow people, the same mindless chatter. Doomed to spend the rest of his days in a spiral of social obligations and living of appearences.

He had spent the last hour staring at each and every person in that dining room, realizing how repetitive and pointless all of that was. And how being on board of the Titanic has summarized that fact so well.

Bruce sighed as he closed the suite door behind himself, leaning on it. He took in the luxury of the cabin that suddenly felt too oppressive. Claustrophobic, even. With each of the walls closing against him.

“I can't keep living like this...” he said to himself, startled by the tears that streamed down his face. “I can't keep living like this... I can't...”

Bruce sobbed, repeatedly saying these words as the tears welled up his eyes and his heartbeat raced uncontrollably. The panic that he always tried to subside in the corners of his mind had taken over his body and had him sliding against the door. Bruce ended up on the floor, crying and hugging his own legs in a vain attempt to regain control. The walls seemed closer and closer and all he wanted was to escape. To run away from all of that and never come back.

And so he did.

Bruce ran along the B-Deck promenade as fast as he could, blind by the tears that didn't stop streaming from his wide eyes, pushing whoever and whatever was in his way. He breathed erratically. His heart was still beating in utter despair. But that didn’t stop him. It didn't matter how, he just needed to keep running.

His breath hitched in an occasional sob, which he suppressed. He couldn't believe he was crying like that. That must be his level of despair, Bruce thought as he ran down the stairs from the well deck and across the deserted fantail and stopped by a stopcock on the stern deck, clinging there for awhile to catch his breath. Finally, he looked around and it dawned on him. There was no way out, except off the ship. There was no escape after all. And Bruce realized that he had never felt more physically and emotionally trapped at the same time. And that feeling was nothing but despairing.

Taking tentative steps towards the railing, he stared at the foam trail in the dark waters of the North Atlantic Ocean left by the propellers of the ship. Without thinking much, Bruce climbed over. He turned his body, keeping his back to the railing and holding onto the bars as he faced the black abyss down below. All of a sudden, the feeling of despair disappeared and for the first time since he got on board the Titanic, Bruce felt in control of his own life.

 _So this is it_ , he thought, _that's how it ends_. Somehow sinking to the bottom of the ocean seemed better than what awaited for him as soon as he arrived in Gotham. As far as Bruce was concerned, his life was already over anyway. And there was nothing he could do.

Bruce was tired of feeling helpless. Like he was standing at a great precipice with no one to get him out of it. No one who cared or even noticed. None of them cared about what he wanted or how he felt. They wouldn't care even if he jumped off that ship.

And it would be so much easier to do that... He would be free at last. Free of Talia. Free of his mother's expectations and the pressures of taking a position he never wanted. And free of that valet who looked more like his nanny than his fianceé’s bodyguard.

All he had to do was jump and all would be over.

All he had to do was to let go and...

"Please, don’t do it!"

Bruce heard someone calling and turned cautiously, clutching the bars of the railing in order to keep his balance to find out who the voice belonged to. Standing a short distance, near the benches scattered around the fantail deck, was the third-class boy he had seen earlier that same day from the B-Deck promenade.

 _Great!_ He thought. That was exactly what he wanted. A god damn witness. A good soul coming out of nowhere just to stop him from doing the only thing that was in his power to do.

"Stay back!" Bruce shouted at him in response. "Don't come any closer!"

"Come on, just give me your hand." the boy insisted extending his hand to Bruce, looking genuinely concerned. "I’ll pull you back over."

"No! Stay where you are!" Bruce shouted once again, making the other boy stop in his tracks. "I mean it, I’ll let go!"

The third-class boy raised his hands very slowly, showing a notebook and a pen, signaling that he would just let the objects on the bench which he was sitting on before making another attempt to get near the railing. He was clearly trying not to scare Bruce and make him fall by accident in the process.

Then he took a few steps closer to where Bruce was, adjusted his glasses and shoved his hands on the pockets of his pants. And look Bruce in the eyes when he said:

"No, you won't." his voice had a defiant tone despite sounding calm.

Bruce couldn't believe the audacity.

"What do you mean, no, I won’t? Don't presume to tell me what I will or will not do. You don't know me!"

"Well, you would have done it already." the boy shrugged in response, not sounding intimidated by Bruce at all.

"You are distracting me. Go away!"

To say that Bruce was annoyed by that boy's attitude would be an understatement. He turned his back on him, keeping his focus on the dark water down below. Perhaps if he ignored, the boy would leave.

"I can’t do this."

Or maybe he wouldn't.

"Yes you can." Bruce argued. "Why wouldn't you? Why would it matter?"

"I'm involved now." The boy took off his coat, letting it fall on the wooden floor. "If you jump, I'm gonna have to jump right after you."

"Don't be absurd!" Bruce turned to look at the strange boy once again, dumbfounded by his words. "You would be killed."

"I’m a good swimmer."

The boy started unlacing his left shoe. Bruce watched him terrified.

"The fall alone would kill you." Bruce once again tried to reason with the strange boy in a vain attempt to convince him to give up this suicidal pact in which he himself had no idea how he ended up participating.

"It will hurt. I’m not saying it wouldn’t. But to be honest with you, I’m lot more concerned about the water being so cold." he was done unlacing his left shoe, taking it off, pretending not to notice Bruce's alarmed expression regarding that new information.

"How cold?" Bruce asked, moving his eyes from the other boy to the black (and possibly freezing) waters of the ocean, as the reality of what he was doing was finally sinking in.

"Freezing. Maybe a couple degrees over." The boy said without showing much emotion when he finished unlacing his right shoe, also taking it off. "You ever... uh... ever been to Kansas?"

_What?_

"What?"

"It is quite cold in January, you know?" The boy continued, without caring about Bruce’s perplexed expression for how naturally he could start a conversation in the midst of a situation like that. "I grew up there, in Smallville to be specific. Once when I was a kid me and my father were ice-fishing out on a lake near our farm... ice-fishing is, you know, when you chop a hole in the-“

"I know what ice fishing is!"

"Sorry!" The boy raised his hands in surrender. "You just... you seem like the kind of an indoor guy." he teased, smirking at Bruce who was now glaring at him. "Anyway, I fell through some thin ice and I’m telling ya, water that cold... Like that right down there..." He leaned over the anchor lying next to the railing, also staring at the water. "It hits you like a thousand knives stabbing you all over your body. You can't breathe. You can't think... at least not about anything but the pain."

The boy peered at Bruce out of the corner of his eye to make sure he was being convincing enough before continuing.

"Which is why I’m not looking forward to jumping in after you. But like I said," he took off his waistcoat and letting it fall right beside his coat, staring at Bruce expectanly, "I don’t have a choice. I guess I’m kinda hoping you’ll come back over the railing and get me off the hook here."

Bruce looked at this strange boy and couldn't help but chuckle in disbelief.

"You are crazy."

"That’s what everybody says." The boy leaned next to Bruce. "But with all due respect, I'm not the one hanging off the back of a ship here."

Bruce turned his eyes to the water one last time before facing the third-class boy standing so close to him now, determined to save his life regardless of the fact that they didn't even knew each other. He would be lying if he said that that boy wasn't very convincing.

"Come on." The pair of blue eyes behind the thick glasses were pleading as the boy extended his hand to Bruce again. "Come on, give me your hand. You know you don't wanna do this."

And he was right. Bruce didn't want to do this. He didn't' want to die. It was quite the opposite. Bruce wanted to live a better life than the one he had. He just wanted to have the power to choose what to do with it. To make his own decisions. But of course hanging by the railing of a ship wasn't the best solution to his problems. And thanks to that third-class boy who now offered him his hand and a reassuring smile, Bruce finally realized that.

"Alright...” Bruce finally gave up, taking The boy's hand as he shifted his footing, turning to face the fantail deck.

"I'm Clark Kent." The boy said with a firm handshake.

"Bruce Thomas Wayne." Bruce responded, wincing after realizing he has given his full name. Why did he do that?

“In this case, I'm Clark Joseph Kent.”

Clark chuckled after noticing Bruce was embarrassed. "Now you know my middle name too."

They laughed together, still holding each other's hands. Bruce stared at that kind stranger with amusement. Would he be a sign sent by God to show him hope was not lost yet?

"Come on, I'll help you." Clark moved to give room to Bruce to climb over the railing. "Don't look down."

He didn't even have to say that. Now that Bruce has decided to live, the height had become terrifying. He was suddenly overcome by vertigo and while trying to find balance enough to climb over the railing, his foot slipped off the edge of the deck.

Bruce plunged letting out a piercing cry, almost taking down Clark who was gripping his hand and was jerked toward the railing. Bruce tried his best to get back up and barely grabbed a lower rail with his free hand.

"HELP!" he screamed from the top of his lungs.

"Hold on! Don't let go of my hand!" Clark tried to reassure Bruce while pulling him back up.

"Don't let me fall!"

"I won’t! Now, try to pull yourself up. I'm gonna count to three and we pull together."

Bruce struglled to get some kind of foothold on the ship's smooth hull, making it harder to take the momentum to climb back which only made him even more desperate as his struggling made his other hand let go of the railing too. He let out another terrified cry.

"Bruce! Listen to me! Listen to me! I got you and I won’t let go.” Clark gripped his hand even tighter, dragging Bruce's attention to him. "Now focus on pulling yourself up."

Bruce did his best to stay calm and do as he was told. He kept pulling himself up while Clark helped him to climb back to the railing, giving him words of encouragement, holding Bruce's hand with all his strength and bracing himself on the railing with the other hand.

Clark was awkwardly clutching Bruce by whatever he could get a grip on. He finally managed to pull Bruce over the railing and into the ship. They fell together onto the deck in a tangled heap, spinning in such a way that Clark winded up slightly on top of Bruce. Both of them were shaking, panting due to the effort and the stress of being in such a traumatic situation.

"Are you alright?" Clark's hands were still shaking, having the collar of Bruce's tuxedo in a tight grip. Still he found enough strength to raise one hand to touch Bruce's terified face wet by the tears.

"I-I..." Bruce stammared still in shock completely disheveled. Startled by how warm Clark's hand felt against his cheek and fighting the urge to lean onto his touch. "I'm fine."

His eyes met Clark's. They were like two blue gemstones that studied him with such intensity and with so much care. The third-class boy's expression only seemed to relax when he heard Bruce saying he was fine. And when Clark let out a relieved laugh, Bruce couldn't help but saying again:

"I'm fine."

Neither Clark nor Bruce noticed as the Quartermaster Rowe arrived accompanied by Talia and other crew members to find them lying on the floor in an awkward position with Bruce still being held by Clark.

"Stand back! Don’t move an inch!"

Upon hearing the Quatermaster's warning, Clark already knew what it was about. He quickly got up and moved as far away from Bruce as possible, keeping his hands in his pockets. Bruce wanted to move his body fast enough to stop him, to ask the other boy to stay close to him but he was surrounded by the crew memebers that helped him get up from the floor of the deck and took him away from Clark as well.

**II**

A few minutes later, Clark was detained and handcuffed by the Master at Arms. Despite Talia being right in front of him and extremely furious, he didn't take his eyes off Bruce who was curled up on a bench, wrapped in a blanket given by one of the crew members. Watching Talia yelling at Clark (and whoever appeared in front of her) with a mortified expression.

Shortly thereafter, Martha arrived at the fantail brought by Slade Wilson and Lex Luthor, one of the richest men on the ship.

"Bruce!" Martha ran to hug Bruce tightly, holding his face to certify he was alright and sitting down the bench beside him. "Son, what happened to you? What's going on here?"

"This is unacceptable!" they heard Talia still yelling at the crew members. "Are these the kind of people that the White Star Line allows on board of their ships? Criminals?"

"Talia." Bruce called, trying to make her stop.

"Homicidal maniacs who, at the first opportunity throw good people off the ship?"

"Talia!" he tried to get her attention, but was still ignored.

"Well, I assure you that actions will be taken and I-"

"Talia! Stop!" Bruce got up leaving his blanket on his sit, standing between Clark and Talia. "It was an accident."

"An accident?!" She echoed his words in utter disbelief.

"It was! Stupid, really." He gave a dismissive gesture, faking a laugh. "I was leaning over and I slipped."

Clark watched mesmerized the sudden change in Bruce's demeanor from the guy he just met minutes ago to an airheaded rich boy in seconds.

"I was leaning far over to see the... the... hm.. the propeller! And I slipped and would have gone overboard..." he briefly gestured to Clark. "Mr. Kent here saved me and he almost went over himself."

"Did you want to see the propeller?" Talia stared at him, extremely confused.

"Bruce, dear, I knew how curious you have always been," Martha came to his side, stroking his hair tenderly to pull it away from his face. "But you have to admit that even your curiosity must have a limit, hm?"

"Forgive me, mother. The last thing I wanted was to worry you." Bruce held her hands, meaning every word. He would never break his mother's heart on purpose. Not after everything they went through for the past year. That notion just made his attempt to jump off that ship sound even more absurd. Seeing worry in his mother’s eyes made him realize what consequences would result from his actions if Clark didn't have stopped him.

"Was that the way of it?" The Master Arms asked Clark, tugging at his handcuffed hands.

Bruce turned back to Clark, begging with his eyes for him not to say what really happened. Praying that he would understand.

"Yes." Thankfully, Clark quickly got it. "That was pretty much it."

Clark kept his eyes on Bruce's, letting out a small smirk in solidarity and complicity as the other boy supressed a relieved sigh. Now they had a secret together.

"Well! The boy's a hero then." Lex Luthor exclaimed with enthusiasm, raising his glass of brandy to Clark as he is uncuffed. "Good for you son, well done! So it's all well and back to our brandy, eh?"

Clark and Bruce exchanged smiles for that. Saying so much with their eyes while they couldn't comunicate in any other way. Unfortunately, their brief moment of complicity is interrupted by Talia who was standing between them, possessively hugging Bruce and wrapping the blanket around him again.

"Let's get you inside, beloved. You're freezing!"

Talia led Bruce towards the B-Deck without sparing Clark a glance. Bruce hold his mother's hand as he tried get away from Talia's grip on his arm to look at Clark one LAST time before going back to the B-Deck.

"Ah..." Lex Luthor caught their attention, speaking in a lower tone as he gestured to Clark. "Perhaps a little something for the boy?"

"Yes, of course." Bruce was glad to finaly get rid of Talia's embrace to properly say his goodbyes to Clark and properly thank him as well. "Mr. Kent would you-"

"Mr. Wilson, I think twenty it's fine." Talia interrupted him, signaling to Slade Wilson before turning to walk away.

"Beg your pardon?" Bruce faced Talia incredulous. "Is that the going rate for saving my life?"

"Darling, Talia is right.” Martha intervened. "This young man saved your life. He should be rewarded."

"And in a much less offensive way, I'm sure." 

Bruce walked over Clark, ignoring Talias’s disapproving glare.

"Mr. Kent," He tried to sound as formal as possible and not to stare at Clark who was watching him with a very amused expression, "as a way of thanking you for your assistance, would you like to join us for dinner tomorrow?" He couldn’t keep a straight face for far too long, using it to his advantage. People expected that Brucie Wayne, The Prince of Gotham, would make a joke or too about being in the verge of death anyway. "You can charm everyone by telling them what happened."

“Sure. Count me in." Clark smirked at him, already following his example.

Maybe Bruce was overreacting for saying he didn't like Clark's attitude.

"Great. We are agreed then." They shook their hands, exchanging smiles. Clark’s smile was so bright , reaching his eyes behind the glasses. A sight that made very hard to Bruce to remember he had to let go. "Good night, Mr. Kent."

"Good night, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looked at Clark as long as he could before finally leaving with his mother and Mr. Luthor towards the B-Deck. Talia graced Clark with a glare filled with disdain before joining them.

Clark stayed there, following Bruce with his eyes until he disappeared from view. He didn’t even realized that Slade Wilson had stayed behind and was watching him with great suspicion.

"You'll want to tie those. It can be dangerous.” He came from behind, gesturing at Clark’s feet already on his shoes. Clark almost jumped startled by the man. "It’s interesting that Mr. Wayne slipped so quickly and you still had time to take off your jacket and shoes, hm?"

Wilson's expression was neutral, but his eyes were of a coldness that would have scared even the Master At Arms. Clark did his best to hold his gaze as firm as possible and not betray himself. Or rather, not betray Bruce. Yet to Clark’s relief Wilson just took one last look at him and walked back to the B-Deck, leaving him alone.

**III**

After finding himself alone again at the fantail, Clark shamelessly let out a relieved sigh. He sat back on the bench where he’d left his notebook and pen and started to write. Of all the things he expected to happen on board of the Titanic, that was not one of them. Rich boy tries to put an end to his own life and has to hide that fact from his family and friends and pretend that nothing that nothing of the sort happened... the tension (not the good kind of tension, Clark had to add) between him and that lady who was yelling at everyone... the scary valet... All of that was so surreal and also a great material to write about. Were all rich people’s lives that exciting?

And that boy was so... so... interesting? Intriguing? Complex? Fascinating?

Why did Clark have the feeling that there was more to him than met the eyes?

However, as he spent the rest of the night awake on that bench, writing nonstop. Clark couldn't help but dedicating entire pages to the mystery tha was the first-class boy who was much stronger than he looked.

* * *

Back to his cabin, Bruce was getting undressed and ready for bed. His heart was still pounding for almost falling off the ship to certain death in the Atlantic Ocean. And although he was glad that didn't happen, he couldn't' help but feel extremely guilty about it. He was so stupid... What was he thinking? That wouldn’t fix any of his problems.

But if that wouldn’t... what would?

Bruce looked at himself in the mirror and saw someone who was desperate but still alive. Someone who still had strength to fight for whatever he desired. God! If he was capable of climbing the railings of a transatlantic ship to save his own life, he could damn well fix whatever was wrong with it, right?

The door opened and Talia entered the room, taking Bruce away from the conflicts inside his mind. She was dressed in a black robe with gold appliqués on the almost transparent fabric that left little to the imagination. Her brown hair, now loose, fell in waves over her shoulders and her emerald eyes shone even in the dim lighting of the room. Even the lack of clothing and adornments of a woman of her class wasn't able to make Talia look any less than a devastatingly beautiful and imposing woman.

"I know you've melancholic." she stood in the middle of the room, crossing her arms. Analyzing him. "But I'm won't pretend to know why."

"I'm just tired." Bruce tried to sound casual, finally finding courage to face her. "Tonight's events were a bit much."

"I don't mean just tonight, beloved." Talia faced him with a tender expression, coming closer to hold his hands. "I know you're not happy with this arrengement. But I was expecting that with time you would see me as your companion. Not as a duty."

"You are not the problem, Talia." Bruce squeezed her hand, trying to relax under her touch but failing. The truth was that he loved Talia but not the way she wanted to be loved by him.

"Trying to throw yourself off a ship a week before our wedding gave me that impression." The tenderness in her eyes gave way to a coldness Bruce never got used to see.

"Talia-"

"Wanted to see the propellers?” Talia scoffed at him. “You’re far smarter than you like to show." she continued, not that interested in listening to Bruce's excuses or explanations. "And I won’t tell your Mother, if that's what you think. God knows she can’t survive another heartbreak."

Bruce remained silent, facing the ground. He wasn’t expecting that kind of reaction. Talia didn’t sound worried or sad for the possibility of Bruce trying to take his own life, she sounded disappointed. The way she emphasized the word heartbreak, burning him with her eyes, made him feel even worse about what he did. Sometimes he was still caught by surprise with how cold hearted Talia was capable of being when wanted.

“Open your heart to me, Bruce.” the softness was back to her voice and she caressed his face. “You used to trust me in the past.”

"It's not that I don't' trust you..." It's just that I don't' love you, Bruce wanted to say.

“Why don’t you let me in?” she cooed, hugging Bruce by the waist, pressing their bodies together. The coldness of her eyes gave way to lust as her hands ran over his bare chest until finding his own again to place them on her hips.

Bruce held her like the beautiful illusion she was. Like they only had moments filled with passion and want, meant to be in each others arms forever. Bruce faced the stranger he had grown up with and saw becoming the perfect copy of the man who raised her, feeling his skin crawl.

Talia took a step back and opened her night-robe, revealing her naked body. 

"There is nothing I couldn't give you." She wrapped herself around him again, pressing kisses on his neck. Then whispered in his ears. "There is nothing I would deny you... if you would not deny me.”

Gone was the time when Bruce could entertain himself with the idea of finally having Talia like this, ready to be taken by him. But they both have changed so much through the years that now, when Talia tried to reach his lips with her own, Bruce couldn't feel desire to close the gap between them as much as he tried.

"I'm really tired." He said, turning his face in the other direction. "Would you leave me alone to rest?"

"I thought you would like to spend the night with me." The frustration in Talia's voice was more than evident.

"I'm not feeling well." Bruce gently took Talia's hands from himself, standing a few steps away. "Please, Talia."

"Well, if you want me to leave... I'll leave." Talia closed the night-robe tightly to her body, unconformed with the turn of events. "Have some good rest, beloved."

Bruce sighed, rubbing his face with frustration after seeing Talia leaving the room. He couldn't keep this up for much longer. Deflecting from Talia's advances. Making excuses whenever she wanted them to be more intimate. If Bruce wanted to change his life, that included finding a way to break this engagement with Talia. But how?

He let his tired, aching body fall onto the soft mattress of the bed of the luxurious room, feeling his head sink into the pillows. What a night that was... For better or for worse. He almost died but he also made a new... friend? Was this the right term to use? Well, anyone who saved his life could be considered a friend on Bruce's perspective...

There he was again, letting his emotions take the best of him. Already feeling attached to anyone who was at least nice to him. Was he that lonely lately? Well, he couldn't say he wasn't... Even so, Bruce's experience dealing with other people told him that their intensions weren't always good, let alone selfless.

However, who would risk their own life to save a stranger the way Clark did? Bruce should do something more than just asking him to have dinner with those dreadful people himself was forced to live with. Yes, he should definitely do something. In fact, it would be the first thing he’d do in the morning. Hes was going to find Clark Kent and apologize and thank him and... maybe try to get to know him better. God knew how much he craved for an interaction with a real person...

Would Clark like that as well?

What would he say?

The night went by and Bruce lied on his bed, restless as ever. Unable to get Clark's piercing blue eyes out of his mind. He couldn't understand what was about that boy that puzzled him so much. Yet, he was determined to find out. Since he was doomed to spend the next few days on board that ship, it was only fair that he had something to occupy himself. Maybe getting to know the third-class boy who saved his life could help Bruce in more ways than just coming to terms with boredom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up being longer than I imagined, but it's also a way to compensate for the time I'll take to post the next one (I'm working on it though).
> 
> And here are some info about this chapter:
> 
> \- In addition to the scenes we saw in the film, I also used one of the deleted scenes as inspiration. You can find it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U_W5PZqweIM
> 
> \- If you are interested in reading while listening to the soundtrack, I recommend you the track used for that scene. Unfortunately, the track wasn't included in the soundtrack album, but you can listen to it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kkqWHbX5a9k
> 
> \- And yes, Talia was wearing Rose's robe: https://66.media.tumblr.com/74b64554aa54a898d9410555de39b57d/c904a071d22d6982-03/s250x400/9953471eb5d207882d00d513c69e5df0af5696c9.gifv
> 
> \- I also apologize for any misinformation about the weather in Kansas. I needed to make it fit in the story
> 
> And thanks to everyone who left kudos and comments. You guys are great!

**Author's Note:**

> \- I've being using this version of the movie script that can be found here: http://sites.inka.de/humpty/titanic/script.html
> 
> \- This and all the next chapters were also inspired by the Titanic soundtrack that you can find on Spotify and on youtube.


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